


Whispers In The Dark

by TheGhostOfYou



Series: One Shots; the Gallavich style. [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:55:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6074829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGhostOfYou/pseuds/TheGhostOfYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian no longer trusts himself around Yevgeny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

It was not like Ian is doing this on purpose. He definitely doesn't want to flinch at the idea of being alone with Yevgeny, having the child code to him. Yet he does anyway. He just hasn't learned to trust himself again.

So he hopes no one notices the change at first, but they have, because he can hear Svetlana talking to Mickey about it one early. They must think Ian is still asleep, so their voices are kept hushed.

"Orange boy looks at Yevgeny like he is disease. What is problem with him now?" 

Mickey sighs, and if Ian knew right enough, his head is probably in his hands. "Look, he's been through some shit okay. Ian's fuckin' terrified. Don' even think of making it harder on him." A sharp curse. "But, fuck.. I'll try."

His heart is sinking, slowing. It's hurting all of them, and no matter how much Ian wants to make it better, part of him is making it hard to move beyond. Ian feels like he's stuck.

The argument is over, and footsteps approach the open door, so Ian closes his eyes and feigns sleep. The bed dips when Mickey joins him, gathering Ian into his arms, holding Ian like he's afraid he'll slip away. He does that a lot as of late.

Lips brush over his ear, Mickey's quiet hum accompanying it. "Rise and shine, Freckles. You gotta get up 'n eat something." His hands are warm on the bare skin of Ian's back.

Despite wanting to stay in this position forever, Ian nudges his nose into Mickey's throat, breathing him in. "Fine, okay. Just... Get me a shirt?" 

Nodding his head, while dropping a kiss to Ian's own, Mickey detangles him, rummaging around until he finds a shirt, passing it to Ian. 

The fabric is soft, unlike the itchy sheets and Ian's greatful. He follows Mickey out of the room, where Svetlana is making breakfast.

She looks over at him, before pointing her spatula in their direction. "I have work. You two take Yevgeny to park. He needs fresh air." 

There's no room for argument, Ian knows that just by the tone she's using so he chooses to half heartedly chew on a strip of bacon.

He knows he needs to try harder, but between the new medication, and his loss for appetite, Ian finds it hard to work up the will do it, or anything really. Still, he wants to push himself. Just has to. Things can't get put this way forever.

Mickey settles down next to him, casually picking at food from the now apparently shared plate. His eyes are sending his wife daggers. "Fine with you Ian? Don't got to do it, just cause the walking-womb said so. Thinkin' your kid sister could watch 'im a while." 

Now on the other hand, here is Mickey, making sure Ian's comfort is coming first. Putting everything else at second place. He can't let that keep happening. Mickey can't keep having to choose. "No, no. We can do it. It'll be nice, like a date out with the kid." 

Ian looks away after saying so, trying to keep whatever disturbed thoughts that are lurking in the back of his mind, there and away from the front. It's a torturous task, but then Ian looks at Mickey from the corner of his eye, and he's sat there smiling slightly to himself. So Ian decides it's worth it.

Svetlana watches over them, waiting for the plate to finally be empty, before she clears the table, after which she dissappears into her room. Leaving the two men on their own.

"I'm sorry." Ian says it a lot, at random times. Something he just can't help anymore, because there's just so much to be sorry for that he's not even sure where to begin. "You know that right? I'm sorry." It's more pathetic the second time said.

Mickey, doesn't see it that way though. Instead, he reaches out, his fingers gently working out the kinks at the back of Ian's neck. "Keep tellin' you that there ain't nothing to be sorry for. You're good, Ian. We'll power through this, always do." 

Looking at the ceiling, Ian sighs, wondering which God in their right mind would give someone like him, someone like Mickey. Someone who didn't scream and shout, but stayed, cared. Someone who doesn't act like they were worse off or understood, but always listened. Things never added up.

He reaches out, pulling Mickey forward into an embrace. Ian needs this. Needs a lot of this now, and a part of him still fears that it's not something Mickey will want to deal with, time and time agaib. So far though, there are always arms wrapping back around him, holding him in place so Ian doesn't drown in his own mind.

Heels click across the creaking floor, and Svetlana has come back to the room, hair done and wrapped in a thick coat as Yevgeny rests in her grip.

"Here. Try not to be piece of shit father today, yeah?" The accent thick in her voice, and a glare in her eyes she passes the bundled up infant into Mickey's hold.

Times like this is where Ian does feel that ever so slight bit of energy blossom inside him. When he gets angry. 

Mickey was far from the worlds most perfect father, but he's trying so hard now. And Ian damns Svetlana to hell for saying things like that to him. Because his lover has not abandoned the kid, or turned him out onto the streets like he could, like so many do here. No, Mickey has learned to love him, even if he doesn't say it out loud just yet, even if it took time. It's there, in his shining blue eyes.

The man in question however seems unfazed by her snark, instead transfixed by the way his son holds one of Mickey's larger fingers in his tiny ones. "Sure, yeah, whatever. Just go sell out your fucking muff." 

Her lips curl, and with a reluctant hand giving Mickey's shoulder a squeeze, Svetlana slips out the front door.

Shiftting uncomfortably in his seat, Ian turns to finally stands up, offering Mickey a weak smile. He needs time. "Why don't I go get the stroller and changing bag? You, just grab his food."

It takes him longer than necessary to gather thing together.

Returning after, Ian has had enough time to save himself from a near anxiety attack. He stands there in the kitchen, face red and eyes puffy. It hurts, to not be able to hold the child so dear to him. To dissapoint so many people. Ian is torn up over it.  He takes a sharp, wet breath when Mickey speaks up.

"Ay, can you hold him a second? I need to take a fuckin' piss."  But on turning to face Ian, Mickey's whole face softens because the redhead has taken a whole two steps back.

Last thing Ian wanted to do was cry, loud and inconsolable. His legs give out, exhaustion catching up on him despite having nothing all day. He hates that. Not having any control on when his body would decide to slow down, or emotions. Ian hates his medication more than anything in these kind of moments.

He looks back up through teary eyes to see Yevgeny sitting up in the high chair, stubby little hands shaking around as he babbles. But Mickey is crouched down next to him, hands tender as they smooth down his freckled face.

Ian sobs again, turning away from his boyfriend to bury his face into his knees. All of this is swallowing him whole, making Ian want to dissappear. "I'm so fucked up, Mickey. Fuck... I can't even hold him. I'm trying, I really am, but you remember what happened last time? I'm scared.. What, what if I hurt him?" Tired of shying away from a touch he craves so badly, Ian turns, coiling his arms tightly around Mickey's neck. "I'm scared, Mick... So fucking terrified of messing this up again. I don't want you to hate me. Don't leave me, please. I'm sorry." 

Mickey's voice is right near his ear, whispered, his hands rubbing soothing circIan's onto Ian's back. "Ian, Ian. Listen to me?" But there's no reponse, nothing but more choking sounds. "Ian, baby..." 

His heart warms at, it does, and Ian only feels worse after because he can't seem to get a grip. "I'm sorry... God, I'm so sorry." 

"What're you sorry for, Red? There ain't nothing you did, you didn't hurt him. Ian, look at me." He gripes Ian's chin, tiling it up. "Not fuckin' leaving you, you're kinda stuck with 'im and me. Look, I know it's scary as shit, man. But I trust you, enough for us both. You're not gonna hurt him. Know how I know that? 'Cause I fucking know you. I know my guy." 

His fingers are so soft when the card through the mess Ian's hair has turned to. "Fuck everyone else, if ya'not ready, there's no force. But I think you owe yourself some credit. You do." 

Idly twirling a finger in the fabric of Mickey's shirt, Ian sighs, burrowing deeper into the warmth. He thinks over Mickey's words a long time. "You think you could maybe sit with me, while I tried? I don't know, it just, it'd make it easier." He's mumbling, but there's no lie to his words. Everything was easier to do with Mickey there.

The arms leave him, and for a second Ian begins to feel panicked again, but Mickey only stands again to pick up his son, before settling back on the floor. Ian stares at them both for a second, the gentle fondness with which Mickey has Yevgeny cradled to his chest. He just wants to be able to watch this exchange for a while.

They struggle to get into a desired position, but they end up with Mickey sitting with his legs apart, Ian's back to Mickey chest and slowly Ian draws Yevgeny into his lap. The infant has eyes just like his father, sparkling, so blue it's scary, and always looking as if they can see into your soul.

It's not easy, a part of Ian is beginning to crumple, the doubts are filling his mind, making him cringe away because he doesn't deserve to have the baby smile up at him like this. Letting out a heavy breath, he reretreats further back towards Mickey, looking for some kind of sense of protection.

He's beat to it, and Mickey's pressing light kisses along the side of Ian's neck. "You're doing just fucking fine, man. My two favorites, ya'know." 

There it was; the encouragement, the lack of judgement, those kind caring words that Mickey has to give him that make Ian remember that he can breathe. And that it feels so good to.

Ian doesn't even attempt to bite back the smile that is creeping it's way onto his lips. He directs it towards the baby in his arms. "Hey, little man. I know it took me too long, but I'm here. I'm here for you, always." There's a cooing noise bellow him, and Ian presses his nose against Yevgeny's head. "Your dad really helped. He's doing that a lot, he's always holding me up when I'm falling. Like, like now." He doesn't miss the way Mickey nuzzles his cheek at that. He continues. "I'm going to do this for you two, you know, get better. Sounds good, huh? Yeah. I'd give you and him the world if I could." 

"You're more than the fucking world, Ian." It's quiet, so quite Ian almost misses it but he's glad he doesn't. "Come on, screw the park, we'll just order a pizza or some shit." Mickey's hands slip further past Ian's waist, tickling the infants foot, to be rewarded with a slight giggle. The purest sound any of them have ever heard.

A pizza box later, the three of them end up on the couch, reruns of some comedy playing. Ian hasn't been able to let go of Yevgeny after finally being able to except back into his arms. He had forgotten how complete it made him feel. To hold this bundle of joy, a part of Mickey.

His head is sagging forward, knees bent across Mickey's lap, so that his boyfriends tattooed fingers can soothe down his thighs. The touch isn't meant to arouse, just comfort. And Ian smiles at that, whole facing lighting up as he holds a sleeping Yevgeny to his chest, rocking him gently.

When Svetlana finally comes home, Mickey has his attention turned towards the TV screen, hand alternating between Ian and Yevgeny, sweet, caring touches. But Ian looks up to see her, and a uncharacteristically affectionate smile on her lips. Ian returns it. He managed.

**Author's Note:**

> So, so. Hi again. How you all doing? 
> 
> I CAN'T STOP WRITING. Is there a cure to this, I just, I got so many ideas in drafts everywhere. I love it man, my head is so beautifully busy.
> 
> So much credit to 'Hold Him' and it's awesome author for helping with the idea! You rock! Because I was totally able to show this wonderful, caring side of Mickey. God, I love him more than me own life what even.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this little drabble that helps me cope with the mess that Shameless has become *pained smile* Leave me some comments and kudos? Yes, no, maybe so!?  
> Until next time! Mwah!


End file.
